I claimed him, I raised him, I kissed him
by Queen Happo
Summary: Muarim is not feeling guilty for how he feels about Tormod, but is worried he might take things too far. Shonen-ai. Shouta


The little one lie in my arms at this very moment. He is breathing slowly, but steadily, fast asleep. We are outside in the cold Grann Desert, with a campfire he lit and my tiger-blood to keep us warm. Our allies sit around the fire as well, chatting and cooking food for night snacks. It is very late, so my little one fell asleep only minutes ago. His little head is resting against my chest, and his small and skinny beorc arms are draped across my torso. My arms are on his back, making sure he does not slip out of my hold and get sand in his robes. I wish we could live somewhere but the desert.

My little one's expression seems troubled, so I assume he is having a bad dream. I gently nudge him in the side with my tail, and he shifts, making only minor complaining sounds. He still seems troubled, which makes my heart ache.

"How is the boss?" Trema ask of me. She is a cat-laguz with an obsession of cleaning, something she was forced to do day in and day out in her days as a slave. Like all of us, she is very fond of the little one, deeming him as the sole beorc whom she wishes not to claw to shreds.

"He is sound sleeping", I tell her. She gently caresses his young cheek and smile, before joining Vika, a raven-laguz, and Roer, a hawk-laguz by the fire.

I look down on my little one and follow Trema's example, caressing his baby-smooth face. He softens up, and seems to find his peace, or perhaps he is having a better dream. Regardless, he looks at ease and I pull him closer to my body, since he shudders perhaps due to a cold wind. I wish that we would not have to live the way we do, or at least, that he would not have to. How many nights have I been regretting ever claiming him?

The little one makes a whimpering sound when I am about to carry him off to our bedroom, so I sit down again. Instead, I close my eyes, thinking back to when I first saw him.

He was even smaller back then, and he was but an infant, even by beorc-standards. I do not think he was more than a year, most likely was he younger, because he could not speak. His head was still covered in his red tangles, and his eyes were still too big and too innocent. From the moment I saw his little features I was taken aback.

I had been a slave for forty years, serving the same master all the time, when slavery was declared illegal. But my masters were nobles, I was not released and worked for them for another seven or so years.

One day, the sister of my master's wife visited. She had taken a baby along, one who was red-haired and red-eyed. It was a bastard child, so she wanted to get rid of it before her husband came back from a long travel to Crimea. Since she knew they had laguz-slaves, she hoped that we, or more specifically I, could get rid of her problem.

The first time I actually saw my little one was when he was brought to my home-room, a room smaller than the masters' closets. The mother of him said good bye to "Topuck", as he was called. Then they placed him at my door entrance, saying "Njari, do something about him." Njari was my slave-name, and the only name to which I had ever been called.

They closed the door and left, and the little one stared at my transformed shape. I thought that he was going to cry when he saw my horrid appearance, but he did not. He stared at me without prejudice and only with childish curiosity towards the unknown. I knew that I would never be able to kill him, _eat him_, like they wanted me to do. Regardless of being starved with no food for three days save table scraps I would never want to harm such a young child. Regardless of the fact he was related to my masters, and a beorc, and that I should more than willingly take out my anger on him, at once when I saw "Topuck" I knew this was impossible. I instead kept him there, in my small space.

When the master later came to check, I hid him under the only available thing in the room; my body. Then I transformed back to my humanoid appearance, and held him close to my chest, lulling him to sleep. Once asleep, I knew that I would never be able to leave this little one.

On the coming day, I fled. For forty-seven years I had served, but no more. Being raised in such an environment, I had learned that I was worth nothing, that I was a hideous creature meant only to serve the worthy beorc. But with age came wisdom, and I decided to use this strong body of mine to escape. With a stolen leather belt I tied a slightly upset infant, though not really crying, to my stomach as I ran to freedom. The guards who tried to stop me were easily defeated by my claws and fangs, and they fell easy prey to my born combat skills.

I did not stop my mad man's running until the little one's crying was loud enough, and we were in the desert north of my old "home". I transformed back, and tried to quiet him. The morning sun was dazzling me, but did nothing to stop my search for anything edible or drinkable. Not for the starving me, but for the little one.

When I was giving up hope, just walking around aimlessly, and "Topuck" had tired of his crying, I found a small pool. I sat down and cupped some water in my hand, then trying to have him open his mouth. It was hard work, since I tried too much not to cause him any harm, but after a while he would drink it. We both drank the fresh water until we were full, and he seemed completely content.

Food was a more difficult matter. I had seen my former masters feed their children, but without a tool like a fork or a spoon I was unable to do anything. I had caught a grand lizard, and wanted to share it with my little one. On hunts I would tie him to my back in humanoid form and later transform, and then run more carefully and snatch the victims' heads with more care. But feeding him was more bothersome.

I had to chew the food first, obviously, but he would not just take it then. I figured he thought it looked disgusting, all chewed up, so I tried to conceal it in my hands first. But then he would not open his mouth at all. My only option was to feed him mouth to mouth, like laguz-parents usually do with their laguz-children. The difference was that "Topuck" was a beorc. But the method worked on him. I would chew the food, and then place my mouth over his. Then he would take if from my mouth and swallow it.

I talked to him as much I could. I knew that it was now my responsibility to care for his little body. I tried to teach him speech, and after a month of care-taking he said his first words. It was "little one", which I always call him.

We lived in the desert together, just like now. I rid myself of my slave-name; Njari, and him of his name. It had been given to him by an awful woman, albeit his mother. I thought myself as a better parent, and thus would it not be my right to name him? Although I rarely refer to him as anything other than my little one, I gave him a name if we were ever to meet others. Tormod, I came up with, as he decided I was Muarim. He was about three at the time.

Often when he was young, the little one would try to transform like he saw me do. When I explained that he and I were not the same species, he became upset and jealous. I found it funny that a beorc would envy a laguz, but then again he was My Little One, no ordinary beorc. I have never felt pure hatred for beorc as a whole, but I did not want to think of the little one as the same kind like my old masters.

We lived in the desert, hunting to get food and not even taking much shelter to sleep. I would transform and he would lie in my arms. Bandits and such in the desert would be our source of clothes and better food at days.

Shortly after he realized that he truly could not transform, the little one stopped wanting to ride on my back during hunts. His legs were as now skinny, and his body small, but he still ran and ran when hunting. I do not believe a faster beorc exist as of now.

One day the little one suggested we should free other laguz. It was when he was seven or so, and I had told him of slavery and my past. We first rescued Vika, who could actually read and write since her master had been blind and she always had to read to them. She found it hilarious when a beorc said he wanted to free her, but when we were back in the desert by our new, and current, stronghold she came to understand. She liked him like an older sister would, and taught him how to read and write.

During the following six years, until this very day, we have freed more laguz and will free more even now. My little one is the leader, the boss, though he is the weakest of us. In a book he found in the stronghold he learned fire magic, but it is not good for much yet. But we do not ask him to fight for our sake, and I never asked for him to even learn magic. It was his own choice, with the kind of freedom I have given him since I claimed him.

He awakens when I caress his face yet again.

"Muarim", he mumbles. "I'm tired." I take him back to our bedroom now, announcing to our companions that we will go to rest.

A habit of old, we share the same bed. I fear that I couldn't sleep without him in my arms nowadays. Once, when hunting, I lost him. Three days went by without seeing him, and three sleepless nights. I was close to give in to despair when he found me. He had also been very scared, and he cried in my arms for long.

We strip of our sand covered clothes and dress to bed. Then we go under the blanket where we embrace like always. Even my tail I wrap possessively around him.

"I know I'm a beorc", he says, "but don't you think that I can ever grow up to be as big as you?" I hate to lie to him, so I decide to be honest.

"No, little one. Even as a child, I was much bigger than you." He pouts so I tighten the embrace. "Little one, it matters not", I say. "Your size does not matter." The words do not seem to work, so I kiss him on his forehead instead. His body gets warmer at once, and he lean up so that we may kiss. His hands move to my head and he takes off the cloth on my head. My hands are on his back, locked so that not even if he wanted to, he would be unable to escape. But he has never tried.

The little one kiss me multiple times, soft and short kisses. Then when I nibble on his lip he let me slip my tongue in his little mouth. Always when we kiss or touch each other I try to be as careful and gentle as possible. But the tiger in me likes me to be rougher, and to take control of his every move and every moan.

We are not parent and child, the little one and I. Neither do we have a sibling-like relationship. And we are certainly not only close friends, and absolutely not lovers. We share a different relationship, unlike any else. I have raised him, but still he lets me kiss him. To explain it simply, he is the most important being in my life as I am in his. We are each other's everything; family, best friend and lover. Though of course I feel guilty sometimes, I did after all raise him, and am much older. But I cannot imagine a life without him in any way, and would die before giving up on what we have.

He moans when I let him, and with a simple gesture I have him move to his back. I am over him, pinning him even though it is not necessary. He is so very tiny to me, but also so beautiful. His eyes are as always big, but while they are filled with childish innocence and idealism like always they also scream of love and lust. He is after all about thirteen, my little one.

I retreat and stop the kiss. He looks at me, puzzled.

"Muarim…" he whines. I kiss him on his forehead and tell him to sleep. He is very tired, as am I.

I can remember the first time I ever kissed him. He was about nine or ten, and just able to lit a torch with his spells. We had fourteen companions at the time and this fortress already. Like now, we lay in the same bed closely embracing.

For a long time, I had been attracted to him. With our lonely nights in the desert, I was convinced this was due to him being the only living creature around me. But even with Vika, Daniey, Sereha and all of the other female laguz around, I still only felt a desire for my dear, precious little one. So this night of dreams, when he lay in my arms, I gave his head a good night kiss like usual. Then, when tasting how soft his skin was and feeling his intoxicating beorc smell that I should have grown too used to, I found myself unable to stop. I kissed the spot between his eyes next, and then his nose. But instead of asking what I was doing, the little one merely closed his eyes and breathed slower. When my lips met his I could feel his tiny heart beat as fast as my own, which pleased me.

His mouth was sweeter than I could ever had imagined or hoped. It felt pure and virginal to me, and a sense of smugness filled me when I explored it with my tongue.

I heard him moaning, a sweet and breathtaking sound. So I broke from the kiss and looked at him, and his face was the same color as his hair. He looked slightly embarrassed, and confused, which made me feel guilty for taking advantage of him.

"Little one", I said. "I am sorry…" He shook his head, and said that I did not need to apologize, and that he was just startled. When I looked at him again, he placed his lips upon mine and we kissed again. This kiss was more daring on both parts, as he met with my tongue eagerly and I let my hands travel maybe too far down his back. When I could feel his small behind in my large hands I broke away immediately, even retreating from the embrace. He whined at me, making me feel selfish for controlling everything instead of letting him have a say. I apologized again.

"Stop apologizing, Muarim", he said with a scowl. "Just make up your mind." Hearing him be so demanding was odd, but not at all wrong. I was about to apologize again, but in time I stopped myself. Instead, I licked his chin in a feline like manner and closed my arms around him. I never let go that night.

"Let's sleep, little one", I say now. He still whines at me, and even tries to seduce me I suppose. Since he's against my chest, he begins to kiss it in the way I have many times done to him. When he playfully bites my nipple I cannot ignore him anymore, so I give in, pulling him to face me and make out. The kisses we share are passionate and quick, which makes me worry. I easily lose myself when it comes to him, and too many times do I end up taking things farer than I feel I should. At least I should wait with real sexual intercourse until he is old enough to protest.

"I am no child", he insists. That sentence alone is proof enough that he is. But again, is it not it very unfair that I am the one to judge and make certain decisions with our relationship? But I do have that responsibility, being the older one and all.

"To me you are", I insist. "We have talked about this before." He pouts so I close my eyes. Why a tiger such as myself can be so affected by puppy-eyes is an odd phenomenon.

"Fine", he says and stops hugging me. He turns the other way and sulk, once again proving to me and to himself how young he is. But regardless of his actions I still lock my arms around him and his closed arms. I lick and kiss and playfully nibble on his neck which he kindly offers me when I start. I hear him moan when I suck on one specific spot which has certain effects on me. He tastes so sweet, and he is so soft. It is hard to stop, but I do so when I notice that he has fallen asleep. Giving him one last kiss on his head, I too drift off.


End file.
